Discovery of Marias Pass Gave Lowest Rail Route Through Rockies in State

(By Mrs. M. E. Plassmann)
Hysham Echo - Oct. 1, 1925 & August 2, 2013

From the geographies in use when I was young, I gained the impression that the Rocky mountains was a single, long row of connected peaks of nearly uniform height extending across the United States from north to south dividing the East from the little known West, and that these mountains rose abruptly from the plains. To go over them was easy, apparently, it being simply a matter of going up one side and down the other, and this might be accomplished anywhere, but preferably where the two peaks joined, and there was a slight depression.
One evening at sunset in 1863, our guide, who had accompanied us from Ohio on our journey across the plains, drew our attention to masses of what appeared to be clouds in the west that were outlined against the red sky, and said: “There are the mountains.”
I could not believe it at first. They did not correspond with the serried line depicted in the geography, for they varied in size and form. My astonishment was greater, when I came amongst them, and discovered that in entering them one found himself in a maze with no visible exit, and without a road to follow the traveler who was unfamiliar with the country would be lost. We passed one chain of mountains only to encounter a second, and once within their confines we never were out of sight of them.
The ascent to South Pass was so gradual that we had to be told we were in it; and it was many years before I knew what the finding of that pass meant to trans-continental travel. Trappers and hunters went back and forth over the Rockies long before, but horseback or afoot. The first wagon to go through South Pass was that of a Protestant missionary, Dr. Marcus Whitman, in 1836. Its feasibility for this kind of a vehicle having been demonstrated, others profited by the experiment of Whitman and soon the tide of emigration crossed the barrier which Thomas H. Benton once said should be the western limit of the Republic, and that on the ridge of the Rocky mountains “the statue of the fabled God Terminus should be erected on its highest peak, never to be thrown down.”
With the establishment of the Canadian boundary line, and the extension of railroads, the possibility of uniting the East with the West began to be agitated in congress, when Senator McDuffie, having described the country west of the Mississippi as he believed it to be - a desert country “where rain never falls, and there were mountains impassable except through depressions” to be reached only by going hundred of miles out of the direct course, immortalized himself by inquiring:
“Well, now, what are you going to do in such a case? How are you going to apply steam? Have you made an estimate of the cost of a railroad to the mouth of the Columbia? Why the wealth of the Indies would be insufficient. Of what use would it be for agricultural purposes? I would not, for that purpose, give a pinch of snuff for the whole territory. I wish the Rocky mountains were an impassable barrier. If there was an embankment of even five feet to be removed, I would not consent to expend five dollars to remove it and enable our population to go there. I thank God for his mercy in placing the Rocky mountains there.”
The ignorance of our statesmen regarding this western country, is attributed by some historians to propaganda of the Hudson’s Bay company. If so, its agents were more successful here than in England, for had the truth concerning it been credited there, the Canadian line might now have been lower. It took several exploring expeditions, and the reports of those who were familiar with the region, to make our government understand that on both sides of and including the Rockies, lay a vast empire of untold wealth; then the vision of a connecting railroad became an actuality. Now, with automobile loads of tourists “whizzing” across the continent, the East is becoming acquainted with the West as it is today; but these sightseers who speed over our national highways, can never imagine the tremendous difficulties surmounted in taking the first wagon through the South Pass. The pioneers who followed the Oregon Trail at a snail’s pace in covered wagons, could form some conception of it, but even for them the way was made comparatively easy by the knowledge gained from that initial trip.
Time, as we know, overcame opposition to the building of a railroad to the Pacific, and East and West were inextricably bound together. Engineers solved the problem of the “depressions” by means of passes and tunnels, and the predicted impossibility was accomplished.
Scarcely were we accustomed to the fact of the Union Pacific before the Southern Pacific was building, followed by the Northern Pacific - three great lines stretching to the western limit of our country. But opposition did not cease with the construction of the first. I was in Helena when the legislature had under consideration the northern Pacific question, and I well recall one speech made at that time by, I think, a native of Missouri, who was decidedly opposed to encouraging any railroad to enter the state. He said he had never seen a railroad, nor did he want to; and then added, in a trembling voice, that if a railroad came here we should hear the children crying for bread.
The Central Pacific crossed the Rockies at Evans’s Pass, at an altitude of over 8,000 feet. The Northern Pacific followed the route outlined by Mullan, through the pass bearing his name, and nearly 3,000 feet lower than its central rival - trifle over 5,500 feet.
I left Helena before the Northern Pacific entered it, and was living in the “City of the Future,” as Great Falls was then denominated, when I first heard that there was a possibility of the St. Paul & Manitoba railway being extended westward, and knew of the efforts that were being made to induce James J. Hill to undertake the task. I saw the first train of the Great Northern enter Great Falls, and true to the prediction of the legislator from Missouri, shed tears at the sight, but not for the lack of bread. They were tears of joy for what had been so long and patiently awaited.
From Great Falls the road went on to Helena and Butte, the principal cities of the state. At first it was thought that a pass would be sought in that direction, and if found elsewhere, the trade on this line would prove lucrative. However, should the road seek an outlet in this neighborhood, it would not be nearly so advantageous as would be a pass farther north, and in a more direct line.
For many years the Marias Pass had been a tradition. Indians had described it, and explorers sought it unsuccessfully. John F. Stevens, the great engineer, who was then in Mr. Hill’s employ, determined to discover whether the stories of the Indians and the report of Governor Isaac I. Stevens (that he judged there must be a pass at the head of the Marias river), had any foundation in fact. The result was that on December 11, 1889, he located the desired pass, about 125 miles north of the passes near Helena, at an altitude of 5,200 feet.
When, last March, John F. Stevens was awarded the Fritz medal, President Ralph Budd of the Great Northern Railway company, told the story of this discovery which I quote from the book issued in commemoration of the awarding of the medal. President Budd says:
“On the last lap of the exploration of the Marias Pass, he (Stevens) was accompanied only by a half-breed Indian, as no one else would venture into the mountains so late in the year. Carrying their packs on their backs, they had reached a point about five miles from the summit when his companion became exhausted and had to be left at camp, if an open fire on ground cleared of two feet of snow can be called a camp. From there he went alone through the pass and far enough to make sure he was in the Pacific drainage. Alone that night at the summit, he tramped to and fro to keep from freezing, and in the morning came back to his Indian only to find the fire out and the fellow half frozen. He finally got his man back to a settlement in the east foothills of the Rockies, after which he came over 100 miles to the railroad, and thence to St. Paul with his amazing report.
At one stroke the discovery of the Marias Pass shortened the proposed line to the Pacific coast by over 100 miles, affording a better alignment, much easier grades and less rise and fall”
A short time ago I came eastward through the Marias Pass at sunset. It was a lovely day, and as the train climbed upward, delightfully cool. The scenery was magnificent enough to attract the attention of tourists returning from the western entrance of Glacier park, who might have been surfeited with sight-seeing. As we neared the summit, it was almost dusk, when a young gentleman slipped into the seat back of me, and announced to the pretty girl at my side: “If you look out soon, you will see the Stevens statue.” Almost as he spoke it became dimly visible, and then was left behind, as the train thunder on.
There, on the plateau where he spent that memorable night, in a superb amphitheater surrounded by lofty mountains, stands the bronze statue of John F. Stevens, erected by the officials of the Great Northern Railway company, to show their appreciation of his services in their behalf. No one who knows why it is there can fail to be thrilled on beholding it in its unequalled setting, of valley and towering heights. Print this post